


The Overachiever

by mightbeanasshole



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 03:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2295821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightbeanasshole/pseuds/mightbeanasshole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael wants--no, NEEDS--to have sex with Geoff, but the butt logistics are freaking him out. </p><p>Excerpt:</p><p>"I'm just tired of fumbling around like tenth graders, Geoff."</p><p>"Fumbling?" Geoff says, making his voice break ridiculously. "Maybe you're fumbling. I'm not fumbling. I'm suckin' cocks n'shit."</p><p>"You're an idiot," Michael says, catching Geoff's eye contact, holding it. And after a beat: "Thank you. For being patient."</p><p>Another beat. Geoff breaks the moment. He feels something swell in the pit of himself like cold water and it scares the shit out of him. Love, maybe. He stares off anywhere but Michael's eyes. The feeling of affection is too much for him sometimes.</p><p>"I think I might be willing to wait for you forever, baby," he says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Overachiever

"Ow ow—okay, okay, okay stop… stop."

"It’s okay baby," Geoff says gently. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry."

"No, goddamn it,  _I’m_  sorry.”

Geoff eases off, and as he pulls out he can feel Michael wince. He reaches around to stroke Michael’s face, mutters into the back of his neck.

"Shhh. It’s ok."

"Jesus. I don’t think I can."

Michael sounds like he’s on the verge of tears.

"Baby, baby," Geoff says, wanting nothing, just wanting Michael not to feel bad. "It’s not important. It’s ok."

"I can’t believe how much that hurts," Michael says. They separate, lay on their sides, and face each other. "I’m sorry. I thought I could."

"It’s okay. Seriously. We don’t have to."

"I want to," Michael says, a whine edging into his voice. "I want to do it for you, Geoff."

"You don’t ever have to. It doesn’t matter."

Geoff buries a hand in his curls, pulls Michael into his chest. They’ve both lost their hard ons and their drive to do anything else—Michael at the shock of discomfort, Geoff at the shock of hurting his partner. They fall asleep.

—-

It bothers Michael the next day. A lot.

And although he has no problem throwing himself into his work, it’s at the edge of his mind. He should be able to have sex with Geoff—not just this heavy petting bullshit they’ve been playing at for the past three months. Three fucking months!

How do they do it in porn, he wonders. I mean obviously, he thinks, anal is supposed to feel great. There are huge, huge populations of people who love nothing BUT having sweet, sweet dicks in their asses.

For a brief moment Michael wonders if he’s defective. Or just his ass. Or maybe Geoff’s too big. Or maybe he’s too small.

He gets on with his day.

—-

That night, they’re back to old tricks. Geoff’s hand on his thigh and kisses, soft kisses. Michael can tell that Geoff is being especially gentle, especially careful with him. Geoff rubs his shoulder, kisses his eyelids, his nose, his ears, his neck, the delicate bones beneath, the hollows and the swells—so gently, murmuring about Michael, his sweet boy, his baby.

On one level it feels good to know Geoff isn’t mad. On another level, on the level of ego, it’s starting to piss Michael off. He’s not some broken little kid who needs to be treated like this.

And after what feels like two hours (but is probably only five or six minutes) of soft little kisses and caresses and sweet talk, Michael is done.

"Geoff."

Nothing.

"Geoff! Fuckin enough already."

"What’s wrong baby?" he says, looking up to Michael but not releasing him, not tensing up.

"It’s okay, you don’t have to act like this."

"What d’ya mean?" Geoff asks, his eyes so heavy lidded with arousal he looks like he’s about to fall asleep. He doesn’t want to argue with Michael right now.

"All this pamper-y bullshit," Michael says. "I fucking sucked last night, you don’t have to do this."

"What do you want me to do?" Geoff asks gently. When Michael gets like this—actually angry, actually hurt, not just for show—there’s no easy way to fix it. Geoff has learned to be patient. (That pisses off Michael, too.)

"I don’t know, man, tell me to try harder? Tell me I fucked up? Tell me to suck your dick and pay for how pathetic I am?"

Geoff snorts a little laugh at this. Fuckin’ Michael. He’s never met anyone so ridiculous and so wonderful.

"If that would turn you on, sure," Geoff says. "But it would just be an act. I don’t care about any of that."

Michael almost looks a little hurt.

"I thought you wanted to…" he lowers his voice a bit at this, "… put it in my ass?"

Geoff’s cock throbs predictably and he thinks to himself, this boy doesn’t know the half of how much I want it.

"Baby, of course," Geoff says, resisting the urge to squeeze Michael and pet his hair like a kid. "I want you any and every single way you’ll have me. But there’s no rush on this."

Michael sighs. He’s holding something back.

"What if I never can, Geoff." And Geoff snorts another little laugh. How many people had felt like Michael does right now, he wonders. Hadn’t he himself felt like this, his first time? What was the right thing to say—assure Michael that they’d get it right sometime? Tell Michael they never had to try again?

The pause is too long. Michael tenses up.

"I’m sorry," Michael says, "I know you don’t want some defective celibate boyfriend who—"

"Jesus Christ, Michael," Geoff says—and this time he doesn’t resist the urge to grab Michael, to pet his hair. "You’re not defective. Christ. Fuck. You’re the most ridiculous human I’ve ever met. You didn’t like anal the first time you tried it—welcome to the club. Welcome to EARTH, man. You’re ok, baby."

Michael struggles a little against Geoff’s embrace but tries to hide a smirk, realizing how glad he is that Geoff has broken the tension.

"I’m just tired of fumbling around like tenth graders, Geoff."

"Fumbling?" Geoff says, making his voice break ridiculously. "Maybe you’re fumbling. I’m not fumbling. I’m suckin’ cocks n’shit."

"You’re an idiot," Michael says, catching Geoff’s eye contact, holding it. And after a beat: "Thank you. For being patient."

Another beat. Geoff breaks the moment. He feels something swell in the pit of himself like cold water and it scares the shit out of him. Love, maybe. He stares off anywhere but Michael’s eyes. The feeling of affection is too much for him sometimes.

"I think I might be willing to wait for you forever, baby," he says.

——

Michael is determined to try again. He’s determined to get it right. He begins to treat anal like a high school assignment.

He starts on the internet, of course, because he’s never actually read about anal. He assumed a lot from porn which, in retrospect, he realizes is never a terrific method to learn about sex.

He reads tutorials (fucking tutorials!), watches instructional Youtube videos. Slowly all of the weird anxiety he had from his failed attempt dissolves away. He realizes that he isn’t alone in having a shitty first experience, in being embarrassed that life isn’t just like porno.

The more he learns, the more he thinks about it during the day, at night, when they’re fooling around. It becomes something that he wants for himself—not just to satisfy Geoff, not just to assuage the fear that an older lover will leave him unless he can deliver.

The stuff he reads says he needs to start playing with his own ass so he can get comfortable with it and fucking relax. Michael realizes that he’s as high strung as a fucking fiddle—which is great when it comes to enthusiastic blow job sessions but not as helpful when you need to stop your ass from clamping down like a goddamn vice.

He starts to play with himself in the shower, the bath, working in a finger, two, three. Slowly, so slowly, just like Geoff had done that night before theif first try, stroking himself with his other hand as warm water streams across his face.

It’s an awkward affair, when he does it, and he feels sometimes like he’s going to dislocate a damn shoulder trying to handle the logistics of finger-fucking his own ass. But when he comes, imagining Geoff buried in his ass, Geoff’s hands digging into his hips, imagining how beautifully and easily their bodies will move together, he comes so hard he feels like he might drown in the bath.

—-

Michael makes the decision to try again on the Sunday before Labor Day.

He and Geoff drive in on Monday to take care a few things, record an AHWU, make sure the damn place hasn’t burned down over the weekend. They meet Lindsay in the Achievement Hunter office and they fumble their way through recording with her.

Lindsay likes the time there with them. All three of them don’t mind being there in the office alone on a holiday. It feels less like work and more like stolen time among friends, like being at high school on a Saturday.

She notices as they film that Geoff seems barely awake, which is not unusual. She notices that Michael seems high strung which is… not unusual. It’s strange just watching the two of them interact in a professional setting, she realizes.

Boyfriends at work.

When the office is full of guys constantly ribbing each other and vying for attention and keeping their energy high to record, it was easy for them all to forget that at the end of the day, Michael and Geoff were going home together.

But with no one else around, she thinks, it’s funny to see them together. Funny in a good way. Michael the doting employee, eager to please, can’t take his eyes off his boss. Geoff the encouraging leader, making sure no joke goes un-laughed at, that Michael feels confident.

They’re damn cute, she thinks.

—-

Geoff and Michael just work a half day after recording before leaving Lindsay to edit, upload and lock up.  

As they walk out to Geoff’s car in the mostly-empty parking lot, Michael catches Geoff’s hand.

"Hey Geoff," Michael says. Geoff turns to him, sees the barely concealed laugher on Michael’s face as Michael takes Geoff’s other hand, clasping them together. Michael gets down on one knee on the gravel, not letting go of Geoff’s hands, and Geoff is already losing it laughing at whatever parody of proposal is going on.

"Michael, is there something you need to ask me?" Geoff says, playing along.

"Geoff… Will you… put it in my ass today?"

They both lose it and Geoff drops Michael’s hands, pretending to be disgusted.

"You’re a sick puppy Michael Jones," Geoff says.

"So that’s a no?"

——

They blow off the Labor Day barbecues they’ve been invited to that afternoon. Geoff suggests that he at least cook them some lunch, but Michael wants to blow that off too. He’s made his damn decision, he thinks, and it’s time to just get it over with.

They’re home and he pulls Geoff inside, to the bedroom, where the shades are already lowered and it’s easily 25 degrees cooler than the hot Texas air outside. Neither of them made the bed that morning as they headed out to work and now they tumble down onto wrinkled sheets, kicking off shoes.

True to his word, there is no fumbling with Geoff. There’s never fumbling. He moves with purpose as he strips off Michael’s polo, undoes his belt, and pulls off his jeans, socks, and boxers in one move. He can’t help but place a few chaste kisses as he does it—on Michael’s shoulder, on his belly, on his hip. He’s rewarded with a contented sigh before he steps back and unceremoniously dumps Michael’s clothes on the floor.

He looks at his Michael, this weird cursing cherub who’s spent the past four months in his bed and longer than that on his mind. All slender frame and gentle swells and soft hair. His body—really, his beauty—never fails to astound Geoff.

Geoff strips himself faster and with less grace before he’s back on the bed, on top of Michael, straddling him. Kisses come less chaste now, wet and hot on hot skin, careless kisses up and down Michael’s chest and neck until Michael is grinding into his hip.

"You really want to try this again?" Geoff mutters at a whisper.

"Yeah, I do."

"You know I won’t be mad if you don’t."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know you can tell me to stop again and I will."

"I know," Michael says. "But I’m not going to." Michael pushes up, kisses Geoff’s neck. buries his face behind Geoff’s ear. "I’m not going to tell you to stop."

Michael’s voice drops to a husky whisper and Geoff’s cock twitches involuntarily. Geoff can tell the dirty talk is about to start, and Geoff dreams about that boy’s thick whisper. “I want it, daddy,” Michael says, the familiar dirty trope they both love but only trot out on special occasions. “I want you.”

"Oh I’ll take good care of you baby boy," Geoff says. With Michael’s face still buried in his neck, Geoff reaches down to palm the other man’s cock. "I always take care of you, don’t I baby?"

"Yes daddy," he pants. "Fuck."

Michael’s cock is already leaking pre-come and Geoff slicks it over the head with his thumb before he lowers himself down. He gently spreads Michael’s legs and the pliant boy is still panting. Michael throws his arms above his head, his head rolling back on the bed, knowing what’s coming to him as Geoff begins to tease him. Geoff licks and kisses all over, gently and then more assertive, his thighs, his belly, the base of his cock, his balls. Michael feels like he could come just from the teasing, but at the back of his mind he knows there’s a greater purpose today.

Finally Geoff moves to Michael’s neglected cock, slowly tracing up and down the shaft, gently mouthing the head. Michael murmurs his appreciation, and then his relief as Geoff finally takes Michael’s cock into his mouth.

"Fuh. King. Christ," Michael says in relief. A hand wraps firmly around the base of his cock and the warm mouth is gone.

"Such a dirty mouth," Geoff says. But neither of them has the heart to tease much from there, and Geoff goes back earnestly to the task of sucking dick. He’s talented and meticulous and he knows his way around Michael and his arousal. He knows how to bring the boy to the brink again and again until he’s begging to come. There’s no sound he’s known to be sweeter.

Michael begins to shift his weight and Geoff stops. He watches Michael spit into his hand and then shift his weight onto his heels, snaking a hand down his own body. Geoff feels hypnotized, then, as he watches Michael’s fingers at work teasing and massaging his own hole.

It’s so hot he can’t help but try and memorize the scene. Jesus take the wheel, he thinks.

Michael’s fingers disappear into himself as he arches. It looks like a familiar motion to him, muscle memory taking over.

"Oh my baby," Geoff says, breathless. "Have you been practicing?"

Michael lets out an affirmative hum but doesn’t stop his work, slowly pumping his fingers in and out.

"You are a fucking wonder," Geoff says, practically humming. "I hope you know that. You’re such a good boy."

Geoff takes over then, gently pushing Michael’s hand away and letting Michael adjust, straighten out his spine. He grabs a pillow, grips Michael by the hips and lifts him off the bed, unceremoniously stuffing the pillow under his lower back before he goes to work.

He laps at all of the gentle, dark places behind Michael’s balls, in the places where his legs meet his body, where his ass meets his legs, before finally circling Michael’s hole with gentle strokes.

Michael’s moaning now, and it’s not just an act. He’s always enjoyed a thorough rimming from Geoff but this time there’s promise and purpose. He feels waves of pleasure as Geoff licks and teases, and finally there’s a pause, a shifting weight on the bed, and he knows Geoff’s grabbed a bottle of lube from behind the mattress.

"Don’t move, baby. You stay right there."

More weight shifting, a small click as the bottle is opened, and then the weight and warmth of Geoff as he lowers himself over Michael. He takes Michael’s cock into his mouth again, grown a little soft in the lull of activity, and sweetly circles it with his tongue as he simultaneously slides a heavily slicked finger into Michael. The boy hums with satisfaction.

Geoff’s own cock is throbbing hot, dry, and neglected as he realizes that Michael is not tensing, not bearing down. His ass is just as tight as Geoff had dreamed in his wildest fantasies, but at the same time pliant. It’s the feeling of promise. He continues to work Michael’s cock with his mouth almost absentmindedly as he slides a second thick finger into the boy. Michael bucks into his mouth, throbbing.

With two fingers, Geoff can reach deeper into Michael, and as he sucks gently, he works his fingers deeper, searching for Michael’s prostate. There’s so much going on—suction, trying to breathe, trying not to hurt Michael—that Geoff feels like his brain is on fire. He wonders in the back of his skull if Michael’s done it to himself yet, reached that sweet spot as he worked his own slender fingers into his ass.

Geoff’s fingertips reach the gland with one firm stroke and Michael’s eyes blaze open as he bucks, almost choking Geoff.

"JEE sus Geoff. What the fuck, wow, ok."

Well, Geoff thinks. That answers that question. Welcome to the world of prostate massage, he thinks to himself.

He doesn’t want Michael to come yet and he slides his fingers out slowly, still attending to Michael’s cock. Geoff props himself up on an elbow, palming Michael’s cock again, looking at the boy’s face. Michael’s head is thrown back in abandon, his eyes closed in pleasure.

"You ok?" Geoff asks.

"Never been fucking better," Michael says. "You can do THAT any time. You can do that some more. Right now, maybe."

"I really want to fuck you, baby," Geoff says sweetly, picking up his pace with Michael’s cock. "Can I fuck you?"

"Yeah," Michael pants.

"Do you want that, baby?" Geoff says, wanting to hear the words. He begins to stroke his own dick with his lubed fingers. He could come just looking at Michael right now.

"Yeah," Michael pants again. Geoff’s hand becomes still on Michael’s cock.

"I need you to say it," Geoff says, something firmer edging into his voice.

Michael opens his eyes then, looking up at Geoff. Geoff’s eyes are heavy, dreamy, and the man looks wolfish, practically devouring Michael with his gaze alone. Michael appreciates the sight of Geoff slowly pumping his own cock, twisting his hand as it strokes over the head, sinewy muscle working ghostlike under his tattooed forearm.

"Say it," Geoff repeats with a hard edge, his hand firm and still on Michael’s cock.

"I want you to fuck me," Michael says sweetly, smiling, humming as Geoff’s hand slowly begins stroking him again.

"I need you to fuck me," he continues. The words spill out of him and he aches for Geoff’s fingers inside of him again.

"I need you to fuck me right now daddy," he says, his voice a brusque whisper. Geoff sighs and Michael knows he’s said the magic words.

"Roll over baby," Geoff says softly, releasing both of their cocks and easing back on his heels. Michael follows directions and Geoff’s hands find the bottle of lube again. He clicks it open, spreading and warming more drops between his fingers. Michael is on his knees now, begging under his breath for what he knows is coming. Geoff puts a finger back into Michael, and then two. He’s so warm, so pliant. Finally a third finger. Michael’s breath doesn’t even catch—he just hums, still begging.

With three fingers in Michael, Geoff struggles to squirt more lube into his free palm. The logistics are a fucking magic trick but he manages to slick his palm, and then he’s slicking his cock. He can’t help but moan now as he strokes himself, strokes Michael.

Michael tries not to think about last time, the discomfort and very real pain, the way he had to put on the brakes and the hot shame he felt at ruining the night.

He tries very hard not to think about any of that as Geoff’s fingers disappear from inside him, tries to focus on how much he wants that fullness, how much he wants to finally be fucked by Geoff.

They’re both moaning now, and Michael feels Geoff positioning himself behind his hips. He feels the head of Geoff’s cock at his opening, feeling impossibly large, a bubble of panic rushing to the surface of his mind.

"Is this ok, Michael?" Geoff asks firmly, no teasing now, no dirty talk.

"Yeah," Michael says. "Geoff, I want you," he pleads.

And then it’s happening, different from before. Geoff is pushing in slowly, his hand still at the base of his own cock, guiding himself in, and Michael feels his body making room for Geoff.

"Slow, slow," Michael cautions, not sure what happens next, feeling an impossible slick heat and fullness.

"I will," Geoff says. "I got you baby. I promise."

Geoff sinks himself to the hilt, as slow as sunrise, true to his promise. They both sigh. Geoff strokes Michael’s back, waiting for the boy to tell him it’s okay to keep going. It’s a perfect moment, their bodies forged together for the first time.

Something in the pit of Michael’s body is uncoiling and any trace of discomfort is gone as he relaxes around Geoff’s cock, a sweet pressure on his prostate that seems to curl pleasure into every cell of his body.

"You okay?" Geoff finally asks. In answer, Michael begins to move his hips. He hums a yes, and Geoff stops stroking his back, takes the boy by the hips.

For the first time he slowly and sweetly begins to fuck Michael.

From the first stroke, they’re both coming apart at the seams.

Michael’s body and mind are ablaze with relief, with satisfaction, with the thought that he isn’t defective and the swirling realization that this might be the most incredible kind of sex he’s ever had.

Geoff feels like a teenager, like he’s falling in love for the first time, like despite the number and types of lovers he’s enjoyed over the years, he never realized it could be and feel this good.

They work their bodies together and apart slowly in a physical and unspoken agreement, Michael tight but pliant, Geoff firm but gentle.

Slowly and lovely together, they match pace, breathing harder. Geoff feels like he doesn’t have enough hands, stroking Michael’s back, his neck, his perfect ass, his hips, reaching around to palm his soft belly, kissing the base of his neck as he works in and out of Michael’s ass. What a gift he is, Geoff thinks. 

They both breathe and moan, no words anymore.

Geoff succumbs to his need to be as close as possible to Michael and sinks across Michael’s back, propping himself up so he doesn’t crush Michael who is still on his knees and elbows.

"Holy shit, Geoff," Michael beings to whisper, almost incoherent. "Daddy. Geoff. Yes. Fuck."

"I can’t keep this up long baby," he whispers back, beginning a matching incoherence. "You’re too good, it’s too sweet, you’re amazing, you’re incredible baby. I want you to come."

And with that, Geoff has a hand at Michael’s cock again, long strokes in time with long thrusts, each one hitting that precious spot. Michael feels an escalating tightness in his belly like a rising tide, like every drop of blood in his body has moved to his cock and his ass and it’s all laced with pleasure like he’s never felt before. It takes almost nothing to send careening over the edge.

"Oh god," Michael chokes after a few strokes. "Oh god. I’m gonna come, I’m gonna…"

"I want you to come, baby," Geoff says, burying his face in Michael’s neck. "Come, baby."

And Michael obeys, emptying and jerking as he’s stroked from the inside and out, babbling incoherent, Geoff and daddy and cursing and praying all tumbling out in no particular order as he comes for what feels like five minutes.

It’s only seconds before Geoff is coming too, as Michael twitches and gasps, Geoff filling him up so sweetly and deeply, saying nothing but gasping for air as he empties himself, loses himself completely in the sensation of being buried so deep into Michael, as pleasure and affection wash warm through every part of him.

It takes a moment for both of them to come back to themselves now, vibrating with pleasure and satisfaction.

They both struggle for purchase as they begin to separate, spent and sweating and not sure how to disengage without hurting each other. Geoff grabs a crumpled t-shirt and wipes his hands before passing it to Michael who swabs off his cock, tries to fix the mess they’ve made. But they both know it’s hopeless and nobody cares about laundry right now. They lower to their sides and Michael flips over to face Geoff, breathless.

"I did it," he says with a weak grin, spent from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, curls plastered to his forehead. "That was incredible Geoff."

He reaches for his glasses, discarded behind him and placed hastily under a pillow. As he slides them back onto his face, Geoff’s heart swells.

"You did it," Geoff says, breaking eye contact because again it’s too much, feeling like every cell in his damn body is filled up with affection for Michael. He stares off at nothing but smiles wide, uncontrollably, before pulling Michael to his chest and kissing his forehead. "You did the fuck out of it, Michael. Little overachiever."

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first piece of completed fanfiction and my first smut. I welcome feedback or any interaction. If you do the tumblr thing, head on over and find me at horrificsmut.tumblr.com. And honestly thank you so much for reading!


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